


Back to the Beginning

by Kitebroken



Category: A Practical Guide to Evil - erraticerrata
Genre: Gen, Time Travel
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-07
Updated: 2021-03-07
Packaged: 2021-03-13 20:48:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,382
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29906871
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kitebroken/pseuds/Kitebroken
Summary: Just another time-travel fic.
Comments: 3
Kudos: 11





	1. Chapter 1

Honestly, I felt a little let down. Slowly lowering my staff to the ground, I peered at the ornately decorated corpse. 

“Is he dead-dead now?” Archer asked, nudging the Dead King’s corpse with her boot.

“Presumably.” Hanno said, staring bemusedly at where the Dead King’s crown had fallen, and appeared to be shriveling to dust. 

“That was easier than I thought it would be.”

The room went dead silent at the Mirror Knight’s words. A faint white light started to blink where the Dead King’s crown had been. The Woe didn’t even need me to say it, as we began to turn and flee. 

Hanno had a look of the purest frustration on his face. 

“Christophe, what did I say about tempting irony?” 

“I’m just stating the truth!” The novice hero defended himself. “It was-“

The light grew blinding, and I accepted that there was no escaping this. At the very least, I was going out in the way I had always assumed I would. Cursing a hero with my last breath. 

“Christophe you fu-“ The light swallowed us all up and then I felt nothing at all. 

Moments later, I slammed my nose into something, letting out a groan of pain. I opened my eyes to see the opponent that had bested me was a dark wood floor. Cleary the Dead King had put his all into this latest trick. 

My arms were tangled in what seemed like sheets, another cunning ploy by the Dead King to restrict my movements. Rough hands pulled the covers away from the tangled mess that I had made of them.

“What the fuck are you doing?” A young girl who looked too innocent to be swearing like that whispered. “Stop being such a freak, Catherine.”

“Who’re you calling a freak? You don’t see me commenting on your forehead, do you?” I snapped back, trying to figure out what was going on. The girl sniffed at me before leaving with an upturned nose that clashed with the patched uniform she was wearing. 

As a matter of fact, I recognized that uniform.

“So do all my nemesises-” Nemesi? I never had determined what the plural of nemesis was. “Just go by the same playbook?” I muttered to herself.

It was, of course, the uniform of the Laure House for Tragically Orphaned Girls. And as I finally got up from being sprawled on the floor, the nostalgic sight of the old room I’d shared with a dozen other girls greeted her. Along with a half dozen girls studiously ignoring me when they weren’t giving me nasty looks. It was just like being fifteen again. 

“So I gotta know, when do I get to stab you?” I asked the open air. The girls around me tried their best to ignore that I looked like I’d gone off the deep end. “Cause I got to stab Akua when she did this, Neshama. You don’t want to be shown up by Akua, do you?”

Besides the muttering of my bunkmates, only silence greeted me. I hummed.

“Might as well get to work.”

Unfortunately, the matron of the orphanage didn’t take too kindly to my plan. It was only going to be a small fire, to see what the limits of this illusion were, and how badly I could throw it off the rails. She ignored my ultimatums about how these punishments were beneath the dignity of the Queen of Callow with surprising ease. 

By the second day of scrubbing every surface in the orphanage with a toothbrush, I was ready to move on. Back when Akua had trapped her in the Fourfold Reflection, I’d lived through multiple different lifetimes, but all of them had been blurry, a series of connected scenes to break me to her will. The Dead King had clearly read me well, if he had molded this illusion to the best possible way to break my will, sheer boredom. 

I’d tried to call on my Name to break out, but I couldn’t feel it at all. The Crows were gone as well, their constant presence in my mind suddenly noticeable in their absence. At least I wouldn’t have to keep babysitting the two prideful goddesses. 

If I was remembering right, according to the amount of gold I had found stashed inside my mattress, this illusion was set almost half a year before I had met Black for the first time. Just after I had begun saving up to head to the War College. I wasn’t really sure why Neshamah had set the illusion now, instead of one of my failures, or the deaths of my friends. Hells, even the visions Winter had shown me were worse than this. 

If I had a silver for every time I was trapped in an illusion where I relived my life with minor differences, I’d have two silvers, which wasn’t a lot, but it was weird that it happened twice. And if I counted the time the Crows went rooting around in my soul, that made three times. 

There was a niggling little idea wriggling around in the back of my mind, but I purposefully didn’t examine it. 

I had broken out of the Fourfold Reflection by syncing up the different timelines in a single act of rebellion, but as far as I could tell, I wasn’t living any other lives right now. Pain didn’t seem to be enough to shake me out of it, and unfortunately there were no genius archmages nearby that I could consult. 

That meant that I had to guess at what would end it, and while I had a few ideas, there were none of them that could be accomplished by a nobody orphan girl. But that was easily fixable. 

All I had to do was become the Queen of Callow. 

If I was careful and cautious, I could rewalk my old bloodstained path, making all the same moves that had led me to becoming one of the most feared villains on the face of Calernia. 

I grinned. 

Very few people had ever accused me of being cautious. Or careful, for that matter. Or practically any positive quality. Maybe that was why I had become a villain. Lack of positive counsel. 

I’d just have to change that this time around. Maybe pass a law requiring all Callowans to compliment me at all times. It wouldn’t be the worst law ever passed by a ruler. 

But I had to get there first, and while meeting with Black would give me a leg up, there were some steps I had in mind. 

Vivienne should be bumming around Southpool right now, probably stealing fish or whatever it was the people there thought was valuable. Not everyone could be as lucky as to be born in a large city, and I would magnanimously take the country girl under my wing. And I guess it would be nice to see her again. 

Unfortunately, it wasn’t as easy as that. The matron wouldn’t imagine one of her wards traveling to another city, and while I didn’t give a rat’s ass what she thought, I also didn’t have the money to travel. The matron actually sent me to the House of Light when I asked for a loan to have them check for head wounds, which was just embarrassing. 

My second idea was slightly more risky, but also more enjoyable. The Pit was just as ugly and uninviting as I remembered it, maybe even uglier. It certainly said something about the rest of my life that I’d ever been nostalgic about this disgusting rathole. I swallowed my disgust and stepped inside to meet with the woman in charge of it, who was downright eager to hear my idea. 

Booker was far too eager to sign me up to run a gauntlet, a nasty grin spreading over her face whenever she thought I wasn’t looking. Three fights, one after another, generally set up so that the crowd could cheer as a cocky brawler bit off more than they could chew. Who didn’t love to see a begging man shoved into the ring for his third match, watch the terror grow in his face as he realized there was no escape without taking a brutal beatdown? Luckily, I wasn’t a cocky no-name brawler so there was no chance of that happening. 

For Booker, the real attraction was the betting, the odds skyrocketing against the underdog, yet so many people always rooting for them. And why wouldn’t they? Odds of a successful gauntlet run could reach twenty to one odds, and if you got lucky you could walk away with a nice purse of gold. And for once, Booker didn’t even need to fix the fights. No one completed a gauntlet. 

So when I handed over all the coin I’d saved and said I was betting on myself, Booker took it with a smile. 

“Good luck.” The dim light from the few lanterns that actually worked highlighted the gaps in her teeth that hadn’t yet been replaced with gold replicas. “You’ll need it.”

Once I made my way down to the fighting pit that the establishment was named for, a thrill of nerves ran through me. For all this was an illusion, it was a convincing one. I couldn’t feel my Name, my old patrons were gone as far as I could tell, and this body wasn’t used to constant combat. 

A thin man strode into the pit across me, his bent nose a sign that he was a regular. 

“You’re gonna regret this little girl.”

My answering grin was all teeth. 

“One of us will.”

An hour and a half later, I walked out of the pit with two healed black eyes, a partially set nose, and a purse full of silver. The jangle of the coins was satisfying, but I hadn’t realized how much I’d been looking forward to seeing the shock on Booker’s face. There was nothing that quite warmed my blackened old heart like seeing the woman that had scared me as a child, completely in awe. 

This purse was a start. It was enough to get me to Southpool, and from there I could contact Vivienne, get here on my side. From there, we could try and get in touch with Black, or I could rely on her to do her whole Thief thing so that I had enough money to attend the War College, start making waves there. 

Overall, I had the beginnings of a plan. Which, considering how it seemed like none of my plans ever stayed on track for more than a short period of time, seemed like a perfect amount. 

I was caught up in my thoughts when a man’s voice called out to me in a way that seemed unsettlingly familiar. I looked up to see a figure hidden in an alleyway that looked perfect for mugging recent victorious but tired winners of the Pit. They were in for a rude awakening if they were counting on easy pickings. 

The figure was too deep in the gloom to make out many of their features, but their pale skin shone in the darkness. A sword hung in a plain steel scabbard at his side, arranged so that it could be drawn at a moment’s notice.

“Catherine Foundling.” There was a pause, as if the man was wrestling with words. “You don’t know me, but I know you.” 

William of Greensbury, the Lone Swordsman, stepped into view. 

“I need your help.”


	2. Chapter 2

I stared at the hero standing across from me. His tousled black hair and long leather coat were the same as in my memories, with a face perfectly suited for both brooding and punching. It was as if he’d come back from the dead, back to be a pain in her ass once more. Except, we had never met before Summerholm. Hells, he was supposed to be on the outskirts of Liesse right now, not here in Laure.  _ And why was he asking me for help? _

“What the hells are you doing here Willykins?” 

He looked even more confused than I was. 

“I just told you. I need your help.”

The more I stared at the man, the more dumbfounded I was. 

“This is a terrible fucking illusion.” I told the empty air. “Come on Neshama, I expected better than this.”

William gave me a look like I was crazy, which I was far too used to and as such easily ignored it. I decided that I might as well take pity on the imaginary man and explain myself. 

“You’re not real.” The illusion just raised an eyebrow in response. “I’m trapped in an illusion of my past. And  _ you _ , are a particularly unbelievable portion of it.”

Understanding came into his eyes.

“No, this isn’t an illusion.” A smile started to stretch across a face that seemed as if it had never done so before. “You were thrown back in time. Just like me.”

I laughed.

“You saying getting your skull crushed brought you back here?” Hells, if every hero I killed had been brought back as well, it was going to get very unpleasant very quickly. 

“What are you talking about Cat?” His smile had fallen and was replaced with the far more familiar confusion. “We got caught in Magnificent’s spell, remember?”

I ignored the unpleasant shiver that went down my spine at the man who had once killed me referring to me so familiarly. Now more than ever, I missed my old pipe. Lighting it would give me time to think, understand the curveball that had just been thrown my way. 

“Dread Empress Magnificent?” 

“You do remember!” Hope was just as unnatural on his face as a smile, and it honestly creeped me out a little that he was so happy. 

“I killed Akua Sahelian before she ever claimed that Name.” I shut him down. “Killed you a year before that. Put my boot through your skull.” 

“That’s- I-  _ what? _ ” William rested a hand on his sword, seemingly unconsciously. 

“I’ve gone through something like this before.” I explained, not unkindly. “In my timeline, we were enemies. I was cast back when my assault on the Dead King failed.”

I mentally slapped myself. I couldn’t act like I wasn’t in an illusion. I couldn’t let down my guard. 

Yes, this illusion was clearer, sharper in a way, than the other ones I had been trapped in. Yes, I was actually aware I was in an illusion, unlike the other times. But as far as I knew, time travel was impossible. Plus, how embarrassing would it be to have to be bailed out of this by a hero? Crows, the shame would be unbearable.

William had gathered himself while I was lost in thought. 

“This doesn’t change anything. Just because we were enemies once, doesn’t mean we can’t work together.” He held out a hand to me, guarded hope on his face.

I considered it for a moment. 

Ultimately, I had to break out of this illusion and while I had a few ideas, my first step was to consult with a skilled mage. Unfortunately, it would likely have to be Akua, seeing as she had used an illusion like this one on me. I wasn’t sure how cooperative she would be, so having William around would certainly be helpful. 

But would he be more helpful than Black? I didn’t think he’d be so sanguine as to work together with the villain that currently ruled Callow. 

No. Until I built up my own powerbase, I’d need to rely on someone else's. And Black was still my best shot. But I might as well try to get the best of both worlds. 

“I need to meet with a mage skilled enough to break me out of this illusion. The Black Knight is my ticket to that.” I lifted an eyebrow. “You’re welcome to tag along.”

Disgust flashed across his face.

“You’d work with  _ him _ ? A Praesi?”

I let out a snort of amusement. 

“You’re looking at the woman that got named the Arch-Heretic of the East.” I grinned sharply. “I’ve done worse.”

Willy set his jaw as if to argue, but then his eyes shot over my shoulder. A faint light was coming from somewhere. Had we been arguing through the entire night? That felt far too quick.

I turned and found the source of the light. 

The Laure palace was on fire, and burning brighter with every second. Billowing clouds of smoke rose up, mixing with the night air. It almost seemed like the sun was rising, the fire casting an orange glow over the entire city. William turned back to me. 

“Did you do this?” William interrogated me. 

“No! I haven’t even been near the palace!” 

He looked unconvinced. Hells, had my  _ completely unjustified _ reputation as a pyromaniac carried over into whatever messed up timeline Willy had been rejected from? I was not going to let it continue into this one. 

He took off towards the noble district at a run, and I cursed and followed after. Heroes. Couldn’t spot a problem without jumping in to help. I couldn’t just let him muck around doing Hells know what. He noticed me trailing behind and slowed his pace to something more manageable. 

“This happen to you?” I panted out. 

William shook his head. 

“The only palace we burnt was Summerholm’s.”

“I remember  _ you _ burning it.” I shot at him, in between stolen breaths. I gave the hero’s long legs an irate look. This time around, I was going to ask Masego about growth spells, and anyone that didn’t keep their mouths shut was going to regret it. 

William raised a single eyebrow. 

“And how many did you burn?”

That was unfair. I didn’t set out to set things on fire. While, yes, I had burned down that one palace in Keter, it wasn’t a common thing. And technically the one in Liesse to flush Akua out. The one in Dormer hadn’t been burnt down, more melted, so that one didn’t count. And Marchford was a mansion, not a palace. 

“Zero.” I lied remembering too late about the hero’s truth-telling trick. 

William laughed, the sound seeming at odds with the face that I had only seen brood and rage. 

“Let me guess. Magnificent’s palace in Wolof, maybe? Or Ater?” 

I didn’t want to dignify him with a response, but I couldn’t resist correcting him and seeing the look on his face. 

“Keter, actually.”

William let out a low whistle, somehow having the breath to do so despite the near sprint he was maintaining. 

“Impressive.” Crowds were beginning to form in the streets as word of the fire spread, and people streamed out of houses, clutching valuables. No one knew if the fire would spread, an uneasy mood pervading the crowds. The two of them slowed down, roughly pushing through the throng. “We never had a chance to travel.” He continued. “Too busy dealing with Praes.”

“That was… is?” I mourned that my vocabulary wasn’t quite up to the task of dealing with time travel. Clearly, my old teachers were to blame for not anticipating my need to talk about time travel. “About five years from now. Were you still fighting Praes then?” 

“Unfortunately. Even after you became the Good Queen, Praes didn’t let up.” 

Good Queen, huh. That was a change from the vision I’d seen in the Fourfold Reflection. Wasn’t quite sure how I felt about that.

He glanced over at me with a look that I couldn’t quite parse. “It’s a shame that you’re short again after finally reaching six foot.”

Bullshit.

I snapped my head to look at him. 

“I was six feet tall?”

William kept his head looking straight ahead, focused on pushing through the crowd. 

“Oh yes. I pushed you into drinking goat’s milk everyday, and you just shot up.”

“Are you fucking with me?” I was in disbelief. There was no way it was that simple. But the alternative was that through some manner of gods or sorcery, Willykins the brooding asshole had grown a sense of humor. 

I caught a hint of a smile on his face. 

“It’s treason to lie to your monarch.” I warned him.

He quickly changed the subject. 

“We’re here.”

The gates to the palace lay straight ahead, to the relief of my burning lungs. Servants streamed out of it at a steady pace, a few even starting a water train, desperately trying to salvage part of it. Others just stood there, staring at the flames, shocked. William grabbed one while I bent over and sucked in air. 

“What happened?”

“A villain.” The servant looked terrified out of her mind. “Oh gods, it was so fast. So much fire.”

William caught my eyes. I grimaced. As he soothed the woman, I wrestled with myself. Even at my most reckless, I hadn’t taken on a Named as a completely normal human. That was an easy recipe for ending up in a grave. But I could tell by the look in the hero’s eyes that he wasn’t going to be dissuaded. 

More than that, I needed to know who the hell the villain was. I didn’t know of any Named that had been in the vicinity at this time. And had this person also been thrown back in time? I needed answers. And there was only one place to get them. 

While William finished up with the woman, I walked towards the exit as it belched out smoke. Some nearby servants tried to stop me, but a look made them back off. 

“Ready?” The Lone Swordsman asked me.

I cracked my neck. 

“Ready.” I agreed, and we strode into the flames. 


	3. Chapter 3

The heat was horrible inside, and I was already sweating through my clothes. They would probably be ruined after all the blood on it from my earlier activities, and now all the sweat and soot. As the two of us crept our way through the palace, smoke clung to the ceiling and slowly started to fill every nook and cranny. I ripped a pair of strips from a nearby curtain, fashioning them into makeshift masks, passing one to William.

“We search for whoever did this. Don’t attack immediately. If they did this just to kill Mazus, I’ll buy them a drink.” I ordered William, immediately regretting it. If I tried to get anything more than the bare minimum of cooperation, he’d probably do the exact opposite just to spite her.

To my surprise, he assented without any disagreement. I’d have bet on the Dead King repenting and turning to good before I’d have expected William to not give me any lip. 

It was hard to keep a sense of direction as we slipped through the palace, with entire corridors blocked off by flames and smoke choking our view. To get past one dead end, we backtracked and went through a nearby kitchen, dishes and utensils getting warped by the heat. I left my illegally acquired gains on a corner and liberated several knives, just in case I needed them. I could always come back for the money later, and if I didn’t, at least someone would have a pleasant surprise. 

“So what was your timeline like?” I idly asked him as we picked our way through the halls. We didn’t have a destination in mind, but there was no way that we would miss our target. Besides the fact I doubted they knew what the word stealth meant, our story wouldn’t allow conflict not to happen. 

“Exhausting.” He answered after a short pause. “Once we took back Summerholm, Praes retreated to their borders, but the Calamities never stopped testing for weaknesses. And every time we tried to fight, they’d just run.”

He paused to step over a corpse too burnt to identify.

“When Magnificent took power, we thought we could finally put an end to the constant skirmishes.” A scowl twisted his face. “From what I saw of the battle before we clashed, it wasn’t going well. And now I’m here. What about you?”

What was the best way to sum up the last five years of my life?

“War.” I decided. “I put down your rebellion, then the Fae invaded, Akua rebelled, Procer invaded, and after all of that, the Dead King rose from his slumber and declared war on the entire world. I got sent back-  _ trapped _ ,” I hastily corrected myself. “During an attempt to kill him.”

“The Fae invaded?”

“Yeah, that was pretty weird.” I agreed. “Killed ‘em all for it though, but nobody else learned.”

“They never do.” 

It was that bit of uncomfortable understanding that we stumbled into the throne room where a lone man was standing.

Fires were licking at the walls, and already a few holes were present in the roof where it had been weakened. There was a startling lack of bodies around, so either the villain had been discriminatory in his attacks, which didn’t match with how the whole palace was on fire, or he threw around fire hot enough to vaporize a person completely. Which did not bode well for fighting him. 

The villain himself was almost unassuming. A patchy beard covered his face, and he was skinny but not in a healthy way, gaunt from too many missed meals. His clothes were simple, but clean, and well-worn. But the fire clutched in his fist and the worshipful look in his eyes as he stared into were the slightest hints that something might be wrong. 

The villain reacted first, the lust in his eyes chased away by fear.

“Black Queen!” He cursed, whipping around to face us. “I didn’t- This wasn’t my fault.”

Definitely a villain then. And he knew me. But I had never seen this man before in my life. 

Somebody was definitely playing silly buggers with Creation. So many Named, all of us thrown back in time? Something was going on, and I had only more and more questions. 

“Name yourself.” I ordered him. I noticed William starting to slide to the side, getting out of the villain’s view.

He flinched back in fear, but steeled himself. I didn’t like the look in his eyes. 

“I-I don’t have to listen to you anymore.” He muttered, not meeting my eyes, his voice growing louder. William stepped forward with his hand on the hilt of his sword, but an upswing in the flames surrounding the villain stopped him in his tracks. “This is my chance. You can’t take this away from me. You can’t. YOU CAN’T!” He suddenly roared at me, and with a swing of his hand a wall of flames roared towards me. 

I’d expected this from when he had started his little mantra, and I rolled out of the way in plenty of time. I glanced behind me to see the fire tear through stone like better, leaving a gaping hole in the wall and causing an ominous groaning in the roof. We needed to kill this man and fast before he brought down the whole room on us. I scrambled to my feet to see William dueling with the villain, desperately trying to avoid getting caught by a blast. 

Wait, he wasn’t using his fancy sword. Where the hell was the Penitent’s Blade? The plain steel he was using was melting slightly in the heat, and the longer this fight went on the more likely he would be left fighting with a hilt. Crows, I always had to babysit heroes. 

I picked a knife that looked like it was balanced, and sighted on the villain. Between one breath and the next, I tossed it and immediately knew I had made a mistake. The aim was off, and it buried itself into the villains shoulder, not his neck like I had been planning. He turned with a snarl and sent another wave of fire my way, and I knew with a sinking in my gut that I wasn’t fast enough to get out of the way. I dived to the side, closing my eyes, but the flames were coming too fast.

“ **Protect** .” 

I landed on the floor and opened my eyes to see a different man standing in front of me, braced against the flames. A wooden door was in his hands, clearly ripped from somewhere nearby, and despite the heat that washed over us, the wood only blackened in his hands. 

Another one? At least this one looked to be on our side. 

“You’re dead!” The villain screeched at the newest contributor to the melee, another surge of fire backhanded at William who had to dodge. “I saw your corpse!”

“My condolences for your mistake, Pyromaniac.” The new Named replied. I could tell the man was a hero, just from his voice. Rich and smooth like butter. And apparently the two new Named knew each other?

“Name?” I questioned him.

“The Gallant Defender,” He responded, grimacing as he held up his makeshift shield against another blast of fire. “At your service, your Majesty.” 

Definitely a hero. And from his Name and the lack of any weapons at his side, I’d wager that he wasn’t the best at attacking. It reminded me of Christophe, the fucking idiot, but hopefully this hero wouldn’t be quite so devoid of sense. He did recognize that I was a queen, which was a step in the right direction.

“Get me closer,” I ordered him. “I’m going to put some holes in him.”

The thought crossed my mind to have him help William attack, but one of us was able to dodge the waves of fire the villain was throwing around, and the other was too important to get barbequed.

Defender immediately began pushing forward, ignoring the increasing amount of fire that was sent our way. I followed behind him in lockstep, inching closer to the villain. 

The villain was getting agitated, the heroes around him refusing to just lay down and die. Panic was in his eyes and I relished it. He was about to do something stupid, I could tell. But I was close enough.

I threw a second knife over the Defender’s shoulder. It whistled through the air, got caught in a blast of fire and emerged slightly melted, throwing off it’s trajectory. And instead of sinking deep into the villain’s throat, it hit home right in an eye.

The villain dropped like a puppet with its strings cut, and William quickly dashed in and cut off his head to make sure he stayed that way. I was much more appreciative of his endeavors to make sure the villains he fought were dead, when it was no longer my body that he was desecrating. 

“I believe we should vacate the premises.” Defender told us, glancing up at the roof which was still there more by inertia than any sort of support. “Quickly.”

The three of us fled the room as it collapsed behind us, leaving the body behind to be buried by stone and flames. Getting out was easier than getting in, the Gallant Defender having the strength to break through some of the weaker walls.

“Well,” I began, coughing as we finally entered fresh air. “At least no one can blame me for this fire.”

There was a momentary silence. 

“Of course, your majesty.”

“Right.”

I fucking hated heroes. 

Now that I wasn’t in the middle of a burning building, I took the opportunity to get a good look at the hero that had rescued me, and he was almost irritatingly handsome. He was cast from the same mold as Brandon Talbot, that old noble knight, and it showed. There were specks of grey in his hair, and I had never been a fan of beards, but if he hadn’t looked old enough to be my father, I might have inquired about his availability. 

“Right.” I began, getting my mind off of the looks of my new subordinate. “Defender, describe the events leading up to you being thrown back in time.” 

He had referred to me as a queen, and while it appealed to my ego to imagine he instantly saw my inherent queenliness, it was far more likely that he was from the future as well. If he was confused by the order, he didn’t show it.

“The Dead King was assaulting the Walls, and I was caught in some manner of sorcerous attack. I woke up three days ago, and realized that I had gone back in time.”

“Walls?” I could practically hear the capital letter. 

“The Walls you surrounded Callow with after the Night of Knives. Enchanted to protect us from whoever sought to invade.” He didn’t seem surprised to be explaining what had apparently been my own measures to me. 

So Malicia’s attack had happened in his universe. And instead of leaving to meet the Drow, I’d retreated back to Callow to fortify it enough that no one could take it. If that was right then that meant a hero had risen under my command while I was still trapped in Winter’s grasp. And apparently decided to serve me. 

“And I was the Black Queen?” I double-checked. William shot me a look which I ignored. If he hadn’t taken my claims of being a villain seriously, more fool him. 

“Yes, your majesty. Have you not claimed the Name?” He politely inquired. He was good at concealing his emotions, and even better at buttering me up with all his courtesies. But I caught the flash of alarm that went through him. Worried that he had lost his chance to put me down before I could rise to power? Or just concerned that I didn’t have the strength to throw Praes out of Callow once more?

“I am currently unnamed.” I told him, carefully watching his reaction. “But Callow cannot be ruled by the Praesi.”

He nodded, his face a mask. He didn’t jump on my hint that someone other than me could rule Callow, but he also didn’t say that I should. Something to keep in mind.

Regardless, the situation had changed with the appearance of the two Named.

“Willy, is that offer of help still open?”

“Of course.” He sounded slightly offended that I’d even asked. 

“Good. Because I don’t think Black will be quite the help I thought he would be.” I paused for a moment to look out over the skyline, the palace still roaring with flames at my back. “Do you know why Laure is so special that four Named came back through time here?” 

“A ritual.” The Defender confidently answered.

“I came back outside of Liesse, not here.” Swordsman corrected me.

I didn’t let out a sigh.

“That was a rhetorical question,” I explained patiently. “But yes, Willy, that’s what I was getting at. There’s nothing special about Laure.”

The two froze as the implications hit them. How many Named had come back in time, all ready to change the world? How many cities were experiencing the exact same thing as us?

“Callow just rose in rebellion. It just doesn’t know it yet.”

If my guess was right, then Callow was about to see a war like none other. Someone needed to guide her through it. 

I heard the faintest growl behind me as my Name started to coalesce.


	4. Chapter 4

The orc across from me gave me an unimpressed look. He was tall enough that it almost reminded me of Hakram, and I swallowed a pang of loneliness at the lack of my right hand orc. The yellowish-green tint of his skin that was more common on a goblin peeked through the gaps in his armor. 

He had been surprised to find us in his office, and I had to admit that Willy’s trick for sneaking in places was much less aggravating when it was on my side. 

“What do you want, Wallerspawn?”

I didn’t let my irritation show on my face, instead giving him a toothy grin. Orim the Grim was a far cry from the caliber of opponents I usually had to face, but I was also far from the height of my power.

“ _ Orim _ , it’s a better question to ask what I don’t want.” I laced my voice with cloying condescension. He bristled at my lack of respect, but he could deal. “But I’ll settle for kicking you out of my city for now.”

I saw him master his first response of ‘you and what army?’ The two heroes on either side of me answered that. They loomed as well as any woman could ask for, William my surly brute and Defender giving his best noble sneer. I personally gave it a six out of ten, but the sword he was turning over in his hands did add something. 

Could we fight his entire legion at once? No. But we could kill him and enough of his men to escape. And once we started the fire, it would spread. 

With Mazus dead along with many of the city guard, Orim’s legion was supposedly in charge of public order. They had instead confined themselves to their barracks, and riots had started almost as soon as the fire died down. If I wanted to stop them, I needed authority, and the best way to get it was to evict these squatters. And perhaps the quickest way to do it would be to kill the general in front of me. 

The orc’s death would spread quickly, and in taverns and in houses, Callowans would start to wonder if the Praesi were really so invincible. Many would see the chance to settle long held debts. Eventually, the Praesi would either have to flee the city, or die to angry mobs. Of course, in the intervening situation, the Legion would brutally crack down on everyone to try and prevent a rebellion for as long as possible. 

But I didn’t want civilians to be involved in this. I was tired of Callowans being massacred. So I just had to make Orim lead his legion out of Laure without ever drawing swords. 

“I’m doing you a favor here.” I leaned in closer, the orc watching me with a stony face. “I’m giving you the opportunity to scrape out of here with your men alive.”

See, I knew intimidation alone wouldn’t convince the orc to leave. It didn’t matter if he survived us, if a month later he was executed for cowardice. So I had to give him an excuse to peddle to Malicia and Black, a reason why he had actually been acting in the best interests of the empire when he fled with his shorts around his ankles. 

“You really think staying here and getting slaughtered like pigs by a mob is what Black wants you to do? Besides, you don’t want to end up like Liesse, do you?” I fished. I still had no clue what was going on beyond Laure, but if other Named were time-traveling, then Liesse would definitely be a hotbed. I was betting that Orim’s mages would have more news, though.

He tensed up slightly, confirming my guess had hit the mark.

“You burnt down Mazus’s palace, didn’t you?” He asked, instead of responding. Crows, I was cursed, wasn’t I? This was my comeuppance, for whatever sins I’d done. What would it take for a fire to occur and for me not to be blamed for it?

“A  _ completely unrelated _ villain started the fire, and we killed him. I  _ stopped _ the fire from spreading.” He didn’t believe me. I could just tell. 

“The Black Knight will hunt you down.” He warned me, instead of politely spelling out whatever had happened in Liesse. I just grinned.

“Black’s far away. I’m right here. There’s only us, and the consequences of our choices.”

“I don’t have the supplies to leave.” He said, but it was a tactic acceptance. All that was left was the bargaining. 

It was eventually settled that Orim would take enough supplies for three month’s march, enough to get them past Summerholm and into the Fields of Streges, and as they didn’t have the coin to actually pay for the food, their armaments would be left behind as collateral. 

News spread quickly, and two days later when the Fifth Legion marched out of Laure it was to jeering crowds and tolling bells. I was watching from the walls as a tall man slid up to me. 

“They didn’t leave anyone behind, Good Queen.” Said the Woodsman, the newest addition to my coterie of heroes. He’d slunk out of one of the nearby villages to see what all of the fuss was about, and decided to join our rebellion once he found out. Clean-shaven and wearing bright flannel, he was a mountain of a man, at least six foot and bristling with muscle. 

William had tested the new hero’s skill with the axe he carried around all the time, and deemed it acceptable, but he’d been much more effective in helping with tracking down some of the local dark guilds. I wanted to have an understanding with them before they saw the opportunity with the death of Mazus’s guard and the departure of the Fifth Legion. 

Ruling Laure would be tricky, but Defender had revealed he was actually Anthony of Laure, the son of Elderwoman Cavan, one of the more well regarded leaders of the local government and using her contacts she’d managed to keep the taxes flowing and scraped up enough men for a new city guard. 

Apparently the timeline he had come from had gone disturbingly well, with me gaining the Name of Good Queen from the peace treaty with Praes I’d forced. He still called me that even though I had told him I was currently unnamed, and I hadn’t stopped him.

He spat on the ground.

“Nothin’ good’s coming from letting that lot leave.” Woodsman said, motioning towards the marching legionnaires. “Shoulda just-” His voice cracked, cutting him off. He frowned slightly as he rubbed his throat. “At least it’s fixing my problem quicker this time around.” He muttered to himself. The beginnings of an Adam’s apple was visible underneath his fingers, which was certainly encouraging. Apparently coming back in time gave your Name a headstart on how it molded you into the image you had of yourself. Hopefully as I came more into my own Name, it’d get me back up to at least my old height. 

“Follow them. Make sure they don’t get any bright ideas.” I told him. I didn’t expect the Orim to renege on our deal, but it gave Woodsman something to do and it never hurt to be careful. He nodded and left with surprising grace for a man of his size. I was tempted to stay up and watch for a while longer, bask in my first victory of this life-illusion. But there was always more work to do. 

I headed instead to the empty noble mansion I had commandeered as a base of operations. Its owner had either died in the flames or fled, sensing that Praesi wouldn’t be welcome anymore, and it had suffered only minimal looting, so it was currently where my makeshift government was found. 

I needed to meet with Elderwoman Cavan, see whether the situation had settled enough that some of our Named could leave. We still had no clue what was going on outside of Liesse, and the local Wizard’s guild only had a single mage that could scry, and she had died in the riots. 

I was about to pass by my personal rooms when my instincts started to scream at me. I caught the nearest servant by the arm.

“Is anyone inside?” I whispered to him, pointing at the door. He shook his head, confused. 

“Get me…” William? No, if it was who I thought it was, he’d only make things worse. “Gallant Defender. Tell him to hurry.”

It was almost a minute of nerve-wracking waiting before Anthony appeared, a steel shield in his hand and armored in plate. Good. I was wearing mail myself, but I suspected that I’d be relying on Defender to live up to his Name.

“Black Queen.” He greeted me, taking a position up at my side without any need for commands. He opened the door for me, and I strode through.

My eyes caught onto the man that was sitting at the table I had in my quarters, going over what looked to be a map of Praes and Callow. Not much taller than me, and with pale skin that made him look almost like a corpse, Amadeus of the Green Stretch, the Black Knight, looked up and caught my eyes. 

“Black.” I greeted him casually, sliding into the chair opposite from him. In another lifetime, he might have been my father, but the man before me was a stranger, despite how familiar he looked. 

“Catherine.” He replied, just as casually. Faint hope started to rise up in me. Anthony came to stand at my shoulder, while nobody did the same at Black’s. The four of us stared at each other for a moment.

“So who’s spell did you get caught in?” I broke the tension. “The Dead King got me.”

A faint smile came to his face.

“Alaya used a spell that she claimed would fix me. I suspect even she didn’t know what it would really do.”

“I don’t think anyone planned for this whole mess.” I agreed. “But it is one hells of an opportunity.” 

“If it's real.” He cautioned me. I gave Defender a smug look.

“ _ See _ . Black doesn’t just accept that this is actually time travel, and not just an illusion.”

“Your grasp on reality is, of course, without peer.”

His face was blank as he replied, but I didn’t appreciate the sarcasm. All I wanted was one person that didn’t mouth off to me. One person that would say, “Yes Cat, of course you’re right, you beautiful giant of a woman.” Was that too much to ask for?

Black took a paper from nobody and slid it over to me. As I reached to take it, I noticed a six written on the back of my hand in ink. Why was that there? 

Right, I’d done that to remind myself there were six Calamities. I frowned slightly as I realized that was wrong. There were only five Calamities. Black, Captain, Warlock, Assassin, and Ranger. Had I counted Malicia as a Calamity? No, she explicitly didn’t follow Black. He followed her. Then why had I written six? Maybe I had miscounted? 

I was about to brush it off when the whuffling of a beast sounded in my ear. It almost sounded like the word ‘Scribe’.

The blinders fell from my eyes and I finally noticed the woman that had been standing in the room with us the whole time. 

“Defender. Three paces forward, four left.” She was quick, but Anthony was quicker, and he crashed into the woman as she attempted to dodge him. He automatically put her into a hold, confusion written on his face as his instincts struggled to reconcile with what his mind was telling him. 

Black gave me a long look.

“Eudokia, reveal yourself.”

The waves of insisted irrelevance stopped crashing against my mind and I finally was able to register Scribe’s presence for more than a few seconds at a time. She was still nondescript, but I could read the anger on her face now. Anthony took the sudden appearance of a woman in his arms in stride, shifting his grip slightly to prevent her from wiggling out. 

“Not a good start to negotiations.” I told Black. “Where’s Captain?”

I could almost see the gears turning. Deciding whether or not he wanted to reveal his trump card.

“Sabah is outside of the city.” He finally said. “If your associate would release Eudokia?”

I mulled it over for a moment. I didn’t believe that Sabah was somewhere he couldn’t call her in easily, but keeping Scribe captive wasn’t how I wanted these negotiations to go. I nodded to Defender, and he let go of the villain. He offered her a hand to get up from the floor, which she stubbornly ignored. She went back to Black’s side, glaring all the while, and Anthony came back to stand at my shoulder.

“So, how bad is it?” I looked at the report he’d given me, which appeared to be a list of names. “You wouldn’t be coming to cut a deal with me if you thought Praesi rule could be salvaged.”

Black’s greatest current advantage wasn’t the Named in his service, or the armies he had scattered through Callow. Right now, he might be the only man that knew exactly what was going on in Callow. I’d grown used to having my own spy networks and information sources, and the sudden lack of them was grating. I was willing to bargain to piggyback off of Black’s for now, but that lack would need to be addressed and soon. 

Black tapped his finger on the table. 

“Due to the surge in Named, every major city in Callow has risen in rebellion.” 

I’d predicted it, but it still sent a chill down my spine. The Calamities were strong, but they could only be in one place at a time. Even they couldn’t take on the entirety of Callow by themselves. 

“How many?” I asked. I figured probably a Name in each city, more than one for the bigger cities like Laure and Liesse. Add in the ones that would come crawling out of the woodwork, and I guessed there were maybe 20 Named in Callow right now, which was a chilling thought. 

The only things that gathered that many Named were Crusades, and those did not fade away gently. That wasn’t even counting the Named that would have appeared outside of Callow. The years to come wouldn’t be quiet, that was for certain. This many Named was like a match in a munitions dump, and it was my job to guide the conflict that was sure to ensure. 

Scribe hesitated, which was the opposite of reassuring. 

“Currently, I have reports of over 40 Named in Callow.”

“Ah.” I said faintly. “That's not great.”

At least I knew this wasn’t an illusion anymore. Only reality had a way of making all my worst case scenarios look like optimistic daydreams. 


End file.
